


sweetheart, it's cold outside

by acoostic



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: It happens, M/M, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, it's how i met my wife, when best friends pretend to not be into each other but have actually been dating for years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoostic/pseuds/acoostic
Summary: “Surely you realize we’ve been snowed in, right?”“There has to be a way! What’s the point of employing mages as part of your manor’s staff if they can’t get rid of a little snow?”----Sylvain and Felix get snowed in at Fraldarius after the war.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	sweetheart, it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> hello fair warning i've not actually played blue lions route yet, so uhh, i did a little research and just kinda made up what happens after the war so if this doesn't actually line up with canon we'll just Pretend shall we?

“Surely you realize we’ve been snowed in, right?” Sylvain watches as Felix paces around the sitting room where they were taking their breakfast — though Sylvain reasons it’s much closer to lunch now. That doesn’t stop him from enjoying the eggs and bacon lying atop a large slice of toasted bread. Felix’s anxious pacing, however, is definitely distracting him. “Your food is going to get cold before you think of a solution, Felix.”

“There has to be a way! What’s the point of employing mages as part of your manor’s staff if they can’t get rid of a little snow?” grouses Felix as he finally throws himself into the chair adjacent to Sylvain, glaring at the plate of food before him. Sylvain gamely doesn’t tell him the food isn’t what caused it to snow two feet during the night before they departed for Fhirdiad for King Dimitri’s birthday celebration.

Watching Felix carefully, Sylvain raises his cup of coffee to his lips to hide his grin as he says, “I thought you didn’t want to go? Certainly made a big show of tearing up the invitation.”

He’d also ripped up Sylvain’s as well, but he decides to conveniently forget that, as he’s afraid that would draw too much attention to the fact that both of their invitations had been sent to Fraldarius. In Sylvain’s defense, it gets even _colder_ up in Gautier during the winter than it does closer to the capital.

“He’s still our _king_ , Sylvain. We can’t exactly ignore it.”

_‘Certainly didn’t stop you when we were younger,’_ thinks Sylvain wryly. “Fair enough, but I think Dimitri will be understanding as to our circumstances. The snow must be nearly as bad there as it is here.”

Felix grunts as he chews, and it shouldn’t be as endearing as it is to watch a grown man pout and eat at the same time.

“Besides, just means we’ve escaped dealing with the machinations of the court to live another day! We’ll see everyone come the spring anyway.”

“Are you going to stay here in Fraldarius until then?”

The question catches Sylvain off guard, fork half raised to his mouth. The egg falls off it before he can convince himself to say anything. “Felix, it’ll be nearly four months before we travel to Fhirdiad for the Fódlan Unification Anniversary.”

“So?” asks Felix testily, his eyes now firmly locked onto Sylvain, in much the same manner as he always had faced down the training dummies back at Garreg Mach.

“So,” begins Sylvain slowly, swallowing around air to take up a few extra seconds as he sets his fork down with a gentle _clink_ , “do you really want me to hang around bothering you until then?”

He usually returns to Gautier towards the end of the Pegasus Moon, before winter has finished with them yet, but when the worst of it has passed up near the mountains. If he only stays that long to be in Fraldarius for Felix’s birthday, then that’s his business. If he stays until they next need to leave for Fhirdiad, that’s an extra month and a half longer than what has become their new normal.

“You could stay until the next Faerghus Founding Day for all I care,” grumbles Felix as he stirs his tea with more ferocity than most would recommend.

Sylvain does his best not to gape at his best friend, his mouth suddenly very, _very_ dry.

“That…Felix, I usually come back to Fraldarius after Founding Day.” It’s true. He’ll say goodbye to the Gautier staff as he leaves for Fhirdiad towards the middle of the Red Wolf Moon, and then he won’t see them again until the Pegasus Moon, when he returns from Fraldarius. The Head of the Gautier Household, Wilhelm, certainly doesn’t seem to mind the Margrave’s absence, and Sylvain can’t help but to notice that things seem to move even more smoothly while he’s away. Wilhelm assures him that they need him to keep them running, but he’s pretty sure he gets in the way with his good intentions more often than not.

With a roll of his eyes, Felix levels an annoyed look at him and says, “I’m aware of _that_ ; are _you_ aware of what I’m offering?”

His heart beats a little bit faster; Sylvain shakes his head. Words are failing him, so he thinks he’ll lean into playing dumb for the time being. At least until maybe his palms stop sweating.

“Tch.” Felix gets up and moves around the table to stand in front of Sylvain. Only a matter of about three feet has been removed from between them, but for some reason, Sylvain feels like leagues just disappeared in a manner of seconds. “Stand up.”

“Why?”

“Idiot, just do it.”

Sylvain stands, body listening to Felix better than it is certainly listening to him at this point. His brain feels like a runaway frightened horse, galloping away into a forest from its master.

Felix shoves his hands into his pockets, and for the briefest moment, Sylvain thinks that all his friend wanted to do is mess with him — that this has all been some prank that Ingrid or Annette had put Felix up to before they left Fhirdiad a month ago.

Then Felix’s right hand pulls out a small box, and Sylvain thinks he’s about to pass out. Probably not enough food for the wild running his brain has had to endure so far that morning.

“Felix…what is that?” he asks, voice weak, his eyes unable to leave the box that is so innocuous but oh so very all-consuming.

“It’s an offer,” Felix says, cheeks turning a dark pink the longer Sylvain stares at the box.

“An offer,” repeats Sylvain dumbly.

“ _Yes —_ fuck, by Seiros, I know you’re not this stupid — it’s an _offer_.”

“Felix — “ Sylvain thinks about asking for what, but he knows. Everything about how Felix is standing in front of him, small box clenched in his hand as it’s held out between them, to how neither of them are able to meet the other’s eyes for longer than a millisecond, tells Sylvain what he needs to know about the offer. His brain has stopped running, but only because it tripped over a tree root and has tumbled to the forest floor.

“Just take this, you insufferable idiot.” The box is shoved into Sylvain’s hands, and he nearly drops it from fear. He stands there, dumbfounded and holding the box as if it will bite him any moment now. Felix snorts, and Sylvain glances up at him to catch the faint traces of an amused smile at the corner of his lips. “Open it.”

“Felix, I — “

“ _Open it_.”

With shaking hands, Sylvain meets Felix’s eyes — eyes he sometimes sees in his dreams, his twisted memories from the war turned into nightmares — and then looks down at the box, slowly taking the lid off. He chokes out a laugh, somewhere between relief and disappointment, when he sees the tiny golden key nestled on a bed of blue velvet.

“It’s a key,” Sylvain says, unable to do anything besides stare at it, an odd feeling settling into his stomach the longer he sees it.

“Of course it’s a key, what did you think it’d be — rings?” Felix scoffs, making Sylvain startle and look up at him in fear, only to see his best friend grinning at him.

Sylvain blinks for a moment before a soft grin spreads over his own face. “Felix, are you teasing me?”

“It’s no fun having a taste of your own medicine, is it, Gautier?” Felix’s grin widens as he reaches out and picks up the key as if to examine it. “It’s more than just a symbolic gesture, you know.”

“Oh, really now? Has Duke Fraldarius transformed into a romantic sap when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Don’t be difficult,” Felix says, and they both hear the unspoken truth that Sylvain is always paying attention to Felix, “It’s a key to my study. I figured you should have access to it if you are to stay here until we travel to Fhirdiad next, that way you can write a proper letter to Wilhelm and let him know.”

Sylvain can’t help but chuckle as he sets the now empty box on the table next to their forgotten breakfast. He gently takes the key from Felix, turning it over in his hands as he examines it. Felix typically keeps him out of his study, claiming that a Duke’s business affairs were private affairs, even while Sylvain calmly accepted news from Gautier at the dinner table in front of Felix all the time. “You’re going to spoil Wilhelm by keeping me away for nearly half the year.”

“He might not feel that way when we arrive to spend the summer in Gautier.”

There goes Sylvain’s brain trampling through the forest again. “No, I should say he wouldn’t.”

“Though I think Marguerite will be grateful,” Felix says offhandedly, and Sylvain mentally agrees that the Fraldarius Head of Household could certainly use a break from their reluctant but overbearing Duke. “Besides, I’ve heard that it’s cooler in the summer up in Gautier.”

It’s been nearly four years since the end of the war, but Sylvain remembers telling Felix something very similar on the road to Enbarr when their company was discussing plans for after the war. Felix had rolled his eyes then as the tone Sylvain has used implied he was joking, however, there hadn’t been any resistance when Sylvain had trailed after him to Fraldarius after the first Founding Day post-war.

“It’s been known to snow even during the Garland Moon some years,” says Sylvain, unable to help the way his heart beats a little bit faster and his hand closes around the key like a promise.

Felix hums, eyes darting to the key in Sylvain’s hand before meeting his gaze. “I think I’ll survive the occasional summer snow.”

There’s a beat of silence before Sylvain pockets the key, running his fingers over it and trying to reel in the giddiness threatening to burst inside his chest. “I’m afraid I won’t have a matching key to give you for when we arrive in Gautier. My study is never locked as a Margrave’s business isn’t quite as demanding as a Duke’s.”

He shrugs, turning his head away as a bright blush dusts his cheeks. “Guess you’ll just have to do better than a key next time, then.”

“Better, huh?” Sylvain stops fighting the urge to beam, letting his happiness shine through, even as Felix continues to shyly look back at the table. “I think I can do that.”

“Good,” murmurs Felix, “I’ll hold you to your word, Margrave.”

“As long as that’s not the only thing you hold to me, Duke,” he winks at Felix, who rolls his eyes, but the small smile on his face doesn’t fade even at the innuendo. “Let’s finish our breakfast, shall we, and then we’ll see about sending word to Dimitri to let him know we won’t be able to make it.”

“I suppose the Old Boar deserves some notice if we can help it.” Felix walks back around the table to sit back in his chair while Sylvain hesitates for a split second before sitting down again himself. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by his best friend. “What is it?”

“Well, I’m just wondering what everyone will say when they hear of our summer plans.” Felix grumbles something under his breath as he picks up his fork, and it’s Sylvain’s turn to ask, “What?”

“I’m sure it’ll amount to mostly _I told you_ ’s and _finally_ ’s.” Felix huffs as he pokes at his now definitely cold food, “At least that’s what Annette assured me when I told her of my plan.”

Sylvain nearly chokes on his coffee, having dared to take a sip while Felix spoke. “Does she also know when you were going to ask me?”

“I may have mentioned I planned to ask you before we left for Fhirdiad next.”

With a sigh, Sylvain rests his head on his hand as he stares across the table at Felix, hopelessly fond and hopelessly doomed. “Then we definitely need to send word to the capital, lest they get the wrong impression about our absence.”

Felix’s blush returns, and Sylvain’s ever grateful that he’ll be getting to see him like this for years to come. “I hadn’t considered it like that.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

It falls off his tongue before he can stop himself, and both of them freeze like an enemy’s arrow had just landed in the middle of the table. It’s a term Sylvain’s used many times before, but never one he’s used to address Felix outside of his own mind. He’s nearly about to apologize when Felix tuts and resumes eating like nothing happened.

“I’ll have Marguerite draft up letters to both Dimitri and Wilhelm after breakfast.” Sylvain merely nods, unable to trust himself to speak at the moment, too afraid of what other things might slip from him before the meal is over. Therefore it shocks him all the more when Felix adds softly, “And I don’t mind you calling me that, just don’t do it where people can hear you.”

Sylvain does choke then, just on his eggs. When his airways clear, he gapes up at Felix, who’s acting demure by pointedly not meeting his eyes. Gradually, a smirk slides its way onto Sylvain’s face. “What if I _want_ to call you that where people can hear?”

“Then you need to do better than that key sooner rather than later.”

Their eyes meet, and Sylvain can’t help the blooming happiness inside him. “I’ll hold you to that, Duke.”

“You fucking better, Margrave.” Felix’s voice is quiet, but his smile is loud.

Echoing his expression, Sylvain smiles back, not so much unable to hold back his feelings, but rather finally feeling like maybe he doesn’t have to anymore.


End file.
